From the Start
by xoredsoxnation21xo
Summary: Caitlyn thought she lost her best friend forever when Nate left Camp Rock to become famous. But when he comes back, will they be able to unlock their intertwined history? A Naitlyn story
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

They had the whole market covered. From preschool to high school, Camp Rock had a place for everyone. My mom went there when she was young. I suppose it's the only reason I go back every year, even with Tess and all of them. It's like she's still with me.

I still remember the first time I went to Camp Rock. I was 5, and my mom brought me. It was the first time I was ever away from home for more than a couple of hours. It wasn't a sleepover camp then, but I was there from 8 in the morning until 10 at night. More often then not, I would fall asleep at camp and wake up in my bed the next morning. That is, until the last week. That's when I fell asleep at camp, but then woke there. My counselor, Cindy, told me that something bad had happened and my dad was here to talk to me. That was the last day I ever saw my mom.

No one ever asked about why I didn't come back that year, though. No one except for Nate.


	2. Chapter 1: The beginning

When I was 5, my mom died. No one cared at camp. No one really cared about me at camp, either. I was just there. Except to Nate. He was my only friend. When I came back the next year, he told me he waited at our tree near the lake, hoping I would come back to camp. I didn't.

This year will be my tenth year at camp. I haven't seen Nate in person since we were 7, and he was "discovered" by the camp director, along with 2 other kids, and was whisked away to California. We promised each other that we'd be back next year, at our tree, except he never came. Now he's a big star, and even though I wait every year at our tree, irrevocably hoping that he would be there, I have yet to hear a single word from my old best friend.

**Chapter 1**

"Hey, Caitlyn," Lola yelled to me as I stepped onto the grounds of the camp. Lola was one of the friends I found in Nate's absence.

"Hey! How was England?" I asked her.

"It was fun. And wet. But amazing! Haha!" She screamed, displaying her usual bouncy personality.

"That's awesome! I can't---" I managed to say before she cut me off.

"OMG did you hear? They're coming back!!!" She exclaimed.

"That's great, Peg, but uh… whose they?"

"Connect 3!" She explained. As soon as I heard those words, I wanted to throw up.

I struggled to answer that wouldn't betray my horror. "W-W-Wow. That's, uh, pretty intense. But I have to go unpack. Tell me more at dinner."

"Sounds great! See you in the mess hall!" She hollered, running to meet another camper.

I started walking towards the cabin assignments in dismay. Why were they coming back? All I could think about was seeing Nate for the first time in years. Would he even remember me?

I was unfocused as I went back to my cabin. I had yet to make my yearly trip to the tree. Should I go? Would I look desperate? Our would he be there, waiting to see if I was there? I opened the door and decided that I'd rather go and risk being the fool then not go at all. First, though, I decided to change.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

I had been sitting under the dock for almost an hour. I brought my laptop with me, and a recent track had kept me occupied for almost the entire time. I kept thinking though--was he coming?

I heard the rocks crackle behind me, but told myself it was nothing, not wanting to get my hopes up. Instead, I submerged my feet into the cold lake water that sent shivers up my spine.

I could hear someone walking on the deck now. It was almost like a horror movie, when the girl is supposed to meet her boyfriend at the lake but instead its some serial killer. I couldn't help myself from thinking of all the possibilities, but I still wouldn't let myself turn and look at the stranger.

Someone came down and sat next to me, also plunging their feet into the chilly waters.

"Hey," they said to me. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Finally turning to look them over, I replied "Good to see you, Nate."


	3. Chapter 2: Memories

**Chapter 2**

I couldn't believe my eyes when I allowed myself to look at him at last. He had definitely grown up from his 7 year old self, and even though I had seen him in the news plenty of times, he looked different to me. Maybe it was because you could see how tired he was in his face, or how much he missed his parents. It was an expression I recognized often--in my own face.

"What are you doing here?" I asked after we exchanged greetings.

"The beauty of show business," he replied sarcastically. "Shane's acting too stuck up for the managers taste, so he's spending the summer here. 'Refurbishing his look,' the managers called it."

"I take it you don't agree with them?" "I haven't seen anything eye to eye with my managers since I was 11. Maybe Shane is acting like a diva. Honestly, I don't think anyone should care. It's not like it makes the music any worse. Not that it could get any," he spat out viciously.

"What happened? I mean, remember when we dreamed of being artists? How'd it all go wrong?" I implored, wondering how both our lives had gone on such different paths than we had hoped.

"I don't know," he replied as we turned to look out to the lake, wrapped up in our own thoughts.

**************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

He was so much different than I remembered, but just being with him brought back long ago memories from the back of the brain. I wanted to spend all the time I could with him--not because he was famous, but because when I was with him, for some reason, I felt closer to my mom.

We were at the opening performance when he asked me if I missed my mom. How did he even remember? In the entire 10 years of our disjointed friendship, we had talked about it once. Once. When we were 6. Yet he still remembered.

"I do, but being here…It just makes me feel closer, knowing she was here, too," I answered after a while. "How do you remember?"

"I just remembered, being here. We were right over there," he said, pointing to the activities center, "when you told me. I had been bugging you the entire week to tell me. You told me your mom died and started to cry, and I felt awful about seeing you cry, so I tried to kiss you, like my mom did when I got hurt. But then you started crying even harder and ran to the other corner. I came over after a couple of minutes to see if you felt any better, but you acted like you hadn't told me anything. We never even mentioned it again."

The fact that he remembered that astounded me. The best memory of when I told him was that I was sad, and it was when I was 7. But as he started describing it to me, I could remember bits and pieces…

"Remember the last day of camp I went to, that first year?" I asked. "The day she died? I feel like I just blocked out that day, hoping that if I pretended it didn't happened, she wouldn't really be gone."

"Kind of. For some reason, that day has always been hard to remember. I know you were upset that morning, though. No clue why," he answered.

"I was? That's so weird…Now that I think of it, I don't think I was very happy that day. I wonder why. Hmmm. Anyway, we should probably go to the mess hall, it's getting late," I said as I started towards the lodge.

"Caitlyn? I have some kinda bad news," he replied, still on the ground.

I stopped, and slowly turned around. "What?" I gulped, hoping it wouldn't be anything bad.

"I'm not staying." My heart sank. Not staying? What did he mean? "Shane's the only one staying here. I have to go back to the studio…" he trailed off.

"Oh. Well, when are you leaving?"

"10 minutes."

10 minutes? I had just reconnected with my best friend, the only one who still remembered my mom, and he was leaving?

"I'm sorry, Caitlyn. I wanted to tell you, but…I was afraid you wouldn't want to hang out or anything, especially after I found you again," he apologized.

I sighed. "Its ok. Are you ever coming back here?" _Please say yes_, I hoped.

"Ya, I should be back in 2 weeks," he answered.

"Well, I guess I'll see you then," I replied, not wanting to say goodbye but not knowing what else to say.

"I guess. But…here. Can I see your phone?" he asked as I took it out and handed it to him. He started walking down to the waterfront, typing away on it.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, wondering what he was doing that was so important that I couldn't see.

"You'll find out soon enough," he smiled, handing me the phone. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye," I replied. He walked off towards the entrance of the camp. I stared after him, wondering what the consequences of their meeting would be.


	4. Chapter 3: Meeting mitchie

**Chapter 3**

Walking towards the lodge for dinner, I must have been completely out of it, because I completely ran into this new girl. She said her name was Mitchie, and it was her first year here. I felt bad so I invited her to sit with lola and me during dinner.

"Wait, so you've been coming here since you were 5?!" She asked in disbelief.

"Yep. I always wanted to work with music," I replied nonchalantly.

"Do you sing? I'm a singer. But I don't if I'm any good…" I've seen her type before. Ok singer, but with no confidence. Nothing to work with. Just great.

"I'm sure your good," I replied assuringly. "But I don't sing. I'm a producer==I work on the tracks and stuff like that. If your good we can work together." I hoped I didn't sound cocky, but I didn't want to make any false promises and end up working with someone who couldn't sing.

"I doubt we'll be working together then," she chuckled, and I instantly warmed up to her. She seemed genuine, and if nothing else, she had a good sense of humor.

"Come on, if you're here, I bet your good. Why don't you sing now?" I asked.

"What? Now? I'm not sure…" she instantly clammed up.

"Come on. It's only me. It's not like your in front of the entire camp," I tried to persuade her.

"Fine…I guess. What should I sing though?" She asked, still uncomfortable with the thought.

"Hmmm. I don't know. Whose your favorite singer to sing to?"

"Well, you know that girl, Demi lovato? She's pretty good. I think I'll sing Don't forget."

As soon as she started singing, I was mesmerized. She was good, better than Tess, better than Lola, better than most people at this camp.

_Did you forget _

_That I was even alive _

_Did you forget _

_Everything we ever had _

_Did you forget Did you forget About me_

"Wow, you are AMAZING!" I said after she finished the first verse. Standing there sheepishly, she thanked me. "You're really good. Seriously--no joke. You'd be great to produce for."

"Thanks, I guess…Shouldn't we be going to dinner or something?" She asked, eager to change the subject.

"Oh, ya. Let's go," and we resumed walking once again.

"Hey Lola," I said when we reached their table. "This is Mitchie. She's knew here."

"Hey! I'm Lola. OMG Caitlyn did you see them? Connect 3? I think I saw their limo pull up!" She gushed to me. _Should I tell her or not?_ I wondered, and decided to save it for tonight. As much as I originally liked Mitchie, I didn't exactly want to bare my soul to her minutes after meeting her.

"Ya, I heard about it. It's pretty cool…" I let her rant for them to everyone for a couple of minutes while I drifted into my own thoughts, and they quickly turned to Nate. What did he do with my cell phone? When would I see him next? Was he thinking of me too?

**Thanks for all the reviews! This was almost going to be very very long but then I decided to finish this chapter off. the next one should be up tomorrow or tuesday. sorry this one's kind of boring but I needed to introduce mitchie and have an intro into the net chapter!! kt x3**


	5. Chapter 4: The dream

**Chapter 5 **

A sudden crash and scream woke me up. I wanted my mom, but fear had seemed to paralyze me and I would not open my mouth. It was still dark outside, and I the only sounds I heard were shallow gasps of air coming from the living room.

"Don't hurt me! I never slept with him!" My mom yelled from the living room.

"That's not what I heard," my dad growled. I heard his advancing steps towards what I pictured as my mother. I could only listen and wait in horror.

"Please! Don't hurt me! For Caitlyn's sake! Not while she's here! PLEASE! SPARE HER!" Why was my mom begging on my behalf?

I heard something drop on the floor, and after a few minutes the garage door opened. My dad's car engine started and he sped off into the blackness. The only sound in the air was cries coming from the kitchen, and an occasional yelp of pain. I desperately wanted to go out and see if my mom was ok, but something told me that it would be best to stay in my bed.

"Caitlyn! Caitlyn! CAITLYN!" Lola yelled in my ear, shaking my body violently.

"What's wrong? what's wrong?" I said, sitting up in my bed. "what happened?" I was sweating profusely, and my blankets were twisted tightly around my body.

"You were dreaming. And from the sound of it, it was pretty bad…is their something you want to talk about?" She asked, concerned.

"Well…He…My mom… I haven't exactly been truthful, Lola. This might take a while."

"Wait, you mean you've known Nate since you were 5?! OMG! Ok. I got this. I'm good. Explain the dream," Lola replied. Knowing her, I appreciated her understanding.

"Ok. So, I was 5 and in bed, sleeping, when a crash woke me up, and I heard a scream. Then I heard my mom defending herself to my dad, something about she 'didn't sleep with him,' but my dad didn't believe her…She was trying to convince him not to hurt her, for my sake," I said, in disbelief, not believing the words I said. "It seemed so real, so familiar…"

"Wow. That's…horrible. Why did you think you dreamt about it? They say you usually dream about stuff you were thinking about previously…But what does this have to do with Nate?"

"I'm not positive about anything, but I always seem to remember things from that year. It's like he jogs my memory…And I'm not sure why, but I have a feeling that dream is from that day--" I couldn't bring myself to say more. As soon as I thought of it, I knew that's where I had heard it before: The day my mom died.


	6. Chapter 5: Discovering the messgae

**_Chapter 5_**

**_ One thing I realized after talking to Lola was that there was one person who would help me figure out what happened in my head that night, and he was back in Los Angeles working on Connect 3's next album. The only way to talk to him, though, was to figure out what he did with my cell phone. I figured it would be no problem for me--I had been working with technical gadgets since I was 7. But boy, was I didn't add his contact, send a message, set a calendar appointment, record a sound or take a picture. There were no new voicemails, and the notes page was empty. I spent my entire breakfast hour taking apart my cell phone, function by function, trying to figure out what the hell he did. After breakfast, I was supposed to go to my hip hop class. I wasn't in the mood to dance until I realized who taught the class."Shane!" I yelled, walking into the class. When everyone stared at me, I turned to a kid and asked where he was, only to be answered with a blank look. Great. Next stop--main lodge.I stormed out of the class and started heading toward the offices. On the way, I ran into the man I was looking for."Shane! I need your help!" I yelled, extremely po'd at the moment."Who are you?" He asked, clearly confused."Look, I need to talk to Nate. Now. But he did something weird with my phone and I need to figure out what he did! And you would know," I explained, hoping it would be enough. "Why should I help you?" he responded, in typical Shane fashion, as Nate would have described it."Because you guys are like brothers! Please..." I pleaded. I guess the look in my eyes convinced him to help. "Fine. Check in your videos--he's a video freak. Now I've got to run. And you didn't hear it from me.""Thanks!" I ran out to our tree jubilantly. I had more important things to do than dance.  
_**

**_  
It better be there... Somehow I managed to wait until I reached the tree to look for the video. I slowly opened all the folders, silently praying that Nate hadn't made my life so much worse. Simply, I couldn't handle it now.  
_**

**_His smiling face showed up against the orange skyline when the video opened. "Hey, Caitlyn," his video self quietly said. He looked over his shoulder, double checking that I had no clue what he was doing. "So we met for the first time since we were 8 or something tonight. And I have to admit, I was kind of nervous in the limo. I can't talk to Shane or Jason about it--they just don't get it. And then I talked to you, and all my fears melted away. Gone. The way we connected...It was amazing." He was shaking his head and smiling in the video, and I couldn't help but join in. My fears from the previous night vanished at the sound of voice, and I had trouble concentrating on anything around me. "Anyway, I kind of stole your phone. Had to leave you a message. Which gets me thinking, what took you so long? I would have expected a call by now. Oh wait--that's right. You don't have my number. Well if you want it, you are gonna have to find it. Look around our tree--it shouldn't be too hard. I'll talk to you soon." He smiled and appeared to have finished. I was about to flip it closed when I heard his voice, and I instantly brought it back up to my face. "One more thing. I really like you, Caitlyn. So don't go running off with some camp guy, ok?" He winked and I closed the his final words still ringing in my head, my heart started pounding into my throat. Of course I had noticed how much he had grown up, how his features had evened out, how curly his hair was, how much his muscles had grown...But what sold me more was how much he hadn't changed. We were still the same friends we were from when we 8, just older. And to me, that's what made the difference.  
_**

**_He told me to look around the tree. I spent the entire class time scouring that tree for any sign of Nate. Again, it seemed like he wanted to hide his presence. I was about to give up when I decided to double check the knot in the tree. I stuck my hand in the hole, and felt around the bottom. Hope falling, I didn't find anything, until a stroke of brilliance hit me: I reached up and stoked the top of the pit and found a folded piece of paper. I detached the paper from the tape holding it on, and opened the paper. It read:  
_**

**_ Caitlyn-  
774.555.1893  
Your welcome, Nate _**

**_ p.s. im waiting for your call _**

**_"Hey Nate. It's Caitlyn. So, it took me a while, but I finally figured out your number. Anyways, I'm just calling to talk, so just call me back when you get a minute. Thanks. Bye," I left the voicemail on his answering machine. I felt remorseful after skipping my first classes, so I didn't have a chance to call him until after my classes were back to the cabin, I started feeling lightheaded. I dropped my bag and collapsed onto my bed, fading into another dream..._**

My mom was pacing around my room, gathering clothes into a bag in her hand. Her eyes darted around the door nervously, landing on the door every 30 seconds or so. She stepped on one of my dolls, and sweared quietly under her breath. This seemed to set her off for some reason; tears started rolling down her cheek and dropping onto the floor. She slid down to the floor onto the floor, and held her head in her hands. I saw my 5 year old self waking up, and my mom slowly picked up her head and saw me watching her. "Hey, hon," she said to me. "Time to get up for camp."  



	7. Chapter 6: Run ins

**Whew! Longest Chapter ever! 1,698 words!! haha. originally this was going to be much shorter, just cut in dif places, add a lot of cliffhangers, but i didn't feel they were big enough to cut the chapter off, so i kept going. read and review!!! katie x3**

**Chapter 6**

Bzzzzzzz, Bzzzzzzz, Bzzzzzzz. What was that noise? I sat up in my bed and looked around, spotting my phone after a few moments. It was vibrating, and I quickly reached out and picked it up.

"Hello?" I asked, groggily, slipping my feet into my new pair of ugg moccasins.

"Caitlyn? Are you ok? It's Nate…" My brain seemed to jolt awake at the sound of his voice. But why did he think something was wrong?

"No, nothing wrong…Why?"

"You sound like you've been crying," he replied, genuinely concerned.

I walked over to the mirror on the door and saw the mascara lines running down my cheek. And then I remembered.

"I-I think I may have. I just woke up. But, Nate, I need to talk to you about these dream's I've been having. They're back from when my mom died, and I'm pretty sure they're more than just dreams." I explained.

"What? I'm coming there. I have to--" He got out before I cut him off.

"You can't. You have to work on your stuff. Besides, there's no way your manager would let you, and somehow I don't think Shane would be too happy about a visit." As much as I wanted him to come, I just couldn't let him do it.

"Fine. I've got to go--my manager's calling me. Just keep your phone on, ok?"

"Ok," I promised.

* * *

That night was the first jam of the year. Usually, I just watched, but this year I helped with Lola, Barron, and Sanders with their performace. I helped them direct it, and I must say, it was pretty awesome. Every year, we try and try to beat Tess at the performance, and this year I thought it was the year we could actually pull it off.

I nervously walked down to the performance area to set things up before every arrived. My phone call with Nate had done nothing to soothe my nerves--in fact, I was now more jumpy than ever. I took a breath and just tried to put it out of my mind, and continued down the dirt path. Just as I took the turn into the area, I ran into Mitchie. She had been avoiding since the first day we met, having been wowed by Tess.

"Hey. Sorry," I apologized, and tried to walk around her before she grabbed my arm.

"Caitlyn. I'm the one whose sorry. I felt bad about moving in with Tess, and I guess I just tried to avoid the whole thing…" Despite her heartfelt apology, I felt no sympathy for her.

"Whatever, Mitchie. Just make sure that singing backup is what you really want."

"What do you mean?" She asked, wondering how I knew she was singing backup, and why it was a bad thing.

"Ever since she was little, Tess sang lead, and her friends sang backup. You decide you don't want to sing backup, and your out. You have an amazing voice Mitchie, but if just want to be a backup singer, than that's your choice," I became increasingly agitated with every word I spoke. Didn't she realize she was so much better than Tess?

"I…I…I'm gonna be late," she stuttered, not sure what to say after my little outburst.

When she was about 20 yards in front of me, I yelled, "Mitchie. If you ever want to sing lead, I'll be here."

* * *

Everyone was in their places. The lights were down, the fog was on, the torches were lit. Barron and my vision was alive, but I just couldn't enjoy it. I set the background music, and the creepy strumming of low string instruments uttered through the speakers. The crowd gasped when dancers started standing up from their seats and crawling towards the stage. Lola ascended to the stage from stairs behind the back wall. She started singing the low, unnerving verse of the first song, but no one knew where the voice was coming from. I cued the fog to rise up over the stage, and a lone center light slowly eliminated the dark in a line throughout the back wall. Suddenly, the light focused onto Lola, who was sitting on top of the wall. The rhinestones on her black vest shimmered in the bright light.

The music picked up, and the dancers started their routine. I had done my part, and I started to relax and watch the show when someone came up and poked me on the back.

I jumped at their touch, and I turned around. When I saw their face, I went "Shit. Shane. What are you doing?"

"How do you know Nate?" He asked me, a puzzled look in his eyes.

"Wait, What? Why?" I asked, surprised why he would even care.

"You asked me where he would hide something. Why did he leave something on your phone?"

"Oh. Umm…Look. We were friends when we were little, and we just reconnected when you came back. Why?"

"Ok. Good. Just…making sure you weren't some really weird stalker. I'm Shane, by the way. I don't think we've formally met."

"Caitlyn. So what can you tell me about Nate?"

"He's single. From the way I heard him talking before we came, that's all you need to know.

"What?" Before he came? "He said he didn't talk to you guys about it…That you guys wouldn't get it."

"He spilled his guts to me a couple days before we arrived. He didn't know whether you would even remember him. But it was more intense, more deep than just a lost friendship…It was like you guys shared a huge secret, but there was more to it than that…It was weird."

Secrets? An intense connection? What?! Then I thought of my mom, and it all made sense. Nate knew much more than he was letting on.

* * *

"That was amazing, Caitlyn! So much for your help," Lola exclaimed for the 5th time as we were getting into bed.

"No problem. It was fun. And besides, you were amazing. You surprised everyone--especially Tess," I congratulated her. One of the best parts of the performance was looking at Tess's expression backstage, one of complete contempt for Lola's voice.

"Ohmygod, I know, that part was amazing!" she laughed. "And I'm pretty sure we beat her performance."

"Lola," I said in complete seriousness, "we did more than beat them. We owned them!" We laughed at our joke, and turned off the light. I was way more than ready to fall asleep, except for the possibility of another dream…

I had been asleep for an hour or so when my ringtone started playing across the room. I jumped up to reach it, hoping it wouldn't wake Lola.

"Hello?" I quickly whispered as soon as I reached the phone.

"Look outside your door," Nate whispered to me. I rushed to the door, and quickly unlocked it. Standing under our cabin lights was Nate.

I ran down to him, and enveloped him completely with my hug. "Ohmygod, you're here!" I yelled-whispered, emotion flooding my voice. Tears started flowing down my cheek, knowing that I was closer than ever to finding out what happened to my mom. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," he replied, looking into my eyes.

* * *

We sat at the dock for a long time, just enjoying each others company. While it was in the middle of the night, I wasn't scared. The moonlight illuminated the lake, and tiny lights dotted the shore from the various cabins and buildings. I didn't want to ruin the mood, but my curiosity eventually won me over.

"So," I asked playfully. "How'd you get here?"

"I got my driver to take me. He promised not to tell anyone. I have to be back by 10 tomorrow for a press release, or something like that."

"How long was the drive?"

"3 hours or so. We left at 9," he admitted.

"Wow. Does Shane know?"

He grappled with his answer. "Eh…No. And I'm thinking it should probably stay that way."

"He knows," I told him. "He came to see me today."

"What? Why? How?" He asked, clearly confused.

"He said that you talked to him like a few days ago or something…I don't know; he wasn't very descriptive. But he said…" I didn't want to sound like I was accusing him of something.

"That I was worrying about something more than a lost friendship, and you thought of your mom," he answered for me.

"Ya," I agreed. "And then with the dreams…I just want answers, you know?"

"Well, for some reasons memories of us always stayed with me. I just remembered, as I got older, thinking your Mom's death was so weird…the circumstances didn't work, you know? Anways, tell me about your dreams first. Then I'll tell you what I think."

I described the dreams in detail to him while he sat in silence. His facial expression changed consistently, from horror to undivided attention to trying to figure out the meaning of all of it. When I finally finished, he just stared out at the water for a few minutes.

Gravely, he turned to me. "Caitlyn, I'm sorry, but I think your mom was murdered."


	8. Chapter 7: The Lake

**hey guys. sorry this took forever, i had the beginning but wasn't sure how to end it. sorry its kinda short but i wanted to get something out! read and review =]**

**Chapter 7**

"Murdered?" I repeated in disbelief. My dad told me everything there was to know. I mean, if there was an investigation, certainly I would have known. Right?

"Look, I don't want to believe it earlier, but it's the only story that works…I'm sorry."

I didn't know what to say, so I looked out into the water instead of continuing the conversation. It seemed so surreal to be sitting there, discussing the possibility of whether or not my mother was murdered…

I opened my eyes a little while later when I felt the brush of something on my head. The moon was lower in the sky than I remembered, and there was a stiff pain in my shoulder. I again felt the brush of skin against my forehead, and realized I was lying on Nate's shoulder. He was absentmindedly brushing my bangs away from my eyes, staring out at the water. Even though I could feel my neck muscles already starting to spasm, I fought the urge to move from my position. His skin was warm and his shirt soft, and then I started to grasp what he was saying. _What was I thinking? I'm not the type of girl who falls apart over some guy. And I don't even like Nate. Right? _

Before I could grapple with my new feelings anymore, Nate noticed I woke up. "Hey," he told me, sitting up. "You kinda fell asleep, and I didn't want to wake you."

"Thanks," I replied sheepishly, still not sure of what I thought. I took my cell phone out of my pocket. "Holy shit!" I yelled when I opened the screen. "Its 2:45 in the morning!"

I stood up quickly, and started to walk away from the lake. "Oh no, oh no…"

"What?" Nate jogged up to where I was.

"They do cabin checks every night at 3...shit! What are we gonna do? There's no way that we're gonna make it in time…Shit, this is not what I need right now!" I started swearing under my breath as Nate struggled to keep up with me.

"Don't worry about it…Come on, we'll just have to run!"

* * *

We made it in 10 minutes. I ran faster than I had in a while, letting the slapping wind distract me from what was going on inside my head. Despite the obvious distractions, I let my mind slide to the subject towards the end, thinking about where he was going to go. The road leading into the camp was across campus--at least a half an hour walk. Surely someone would catch him, with all the counselors checking the cabins. And besides, I wasn't ready for him to leave.

"Where are you gonna go now? There's now way you'll make it across camp and not get camp," I worried.

"What else can I do?"

I thought for a moment before replying. "Stay with me."

He looked taken aback, but slightly pleased. "Where?"

"The cabin. Please," I pleaded. "You can sleep on the floor. I'll give you a blanket and a pillow. Nate, please…don't leave me alone," I pleaded, looking into his eyes, hoping he would crack.

"Fine," he sighed.

'Thank you!" I jumped into his arms before realizing what I was doing, and pulled away. "Just wait out here. I'll come get you when they've left."

* * *

"Nate! Wake up!"

"Wha? Wha-What time is it?" He asked groggily, coming out of his uncomfortable rest on the floor of my cabin.

"Sometime around 5."

He sat up, holding his head in his hands.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing. I just…have a really bad heachache."

"Sorry," I sympathized. "Maybe some food will help."

"Food? Ya…"

I grabbed his hand and helped him up. I dragged him out the front door and regretfully dropped his hand, hoping he was following my lead towards the mess hall.

"They actually serve food this early in the morning?" he questioned doubtfully.

* * *

It turns out that they don't serve food that early. We sat on the steps of the mess hall, praying that someone would start serving food soon.

"So," I asked, eager to end the awkward silence that had come between us. "Hows the studio work coming? Still hate your manager?"

"Pretty much," he answered. "I mean, sometimes it's ok, like when they actually listen to us. But lately…it's just all about the money. The fame. Anything but the music."

"Tough position," I sympathized. "If you leave, you have nothing; you stay, you have more than you wanted."

"Ya. Most people don't get that. I mean, according to Forbes or something, I'm worth like 50 million dollars," I gasped in shock when I heard how much the amount supposedly was. "But I don't care. Yeah, it's nice to be able to have nice clothes and perform all the time…But for what they put us through, I'm not sure it's worth it anymore."

"I'm really sorry," I countered, unsure what to say. "Do you still get to write some of your music?

"Not really. Well, I do write my own music. But it's never on any of the albums. I just 'co-write' it with song writers."

"I take it that means they write and you don't do anything?"

"Pretty much. It's just about making the fans think we write our own music."

A brain flash flew into my head, but I wasn't sure whether or not he'd agree to it. "Maybe…Welll…"

"Come on, spit it out already," he joked around.

I stood up. "Maybe I could produce for you. For one of the songs you wrote."

He got up off the steps, walking a few steps away, and crossed his arms. His face was out of view, so I had no idea whether he thought I was genius or just needed help with thought.

"That just might work," he turned around to face me,. "I have a song…It wouldn't be too hard. We can send it to the recording company, show them that what I write isn't crap…" He trailed off, hurt at the words someone within his staff must have uttered.

"We can play it for the camp, see if they like it. Bring the stats to the record company."

He nodded, slightly smiling at the prospect. Without warning, he came over and pulled me into a huge bear hug. "Thanks," he mumbled, and I thought I felt tears on my cheek. Was he crying?

"Caitlyn?!" A voice exclaimed, and I sped out of Nate's arms.

"Hey Mitchie."


	9. Chapter 8: The File

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update, i had like half of it done and then didn't know how to finish it (: read and review!**

Chapter 8

"Guys, I'm so, so sorry, I had no clue that you were dating," Mitchie apologized, assuming what I wished was true. As soon as she said _dating, _both Nate and I froze up, and I started blushing profusely.

"Mitchie," I stuttered. "We're not…We don't…"

"We're not together," Nate managed to spit out.

"But what was that?" She asked, apparently clueless of how uncomfortable we were. She stared at me, asking me to answer her question before suddenly becoming aware of how awkward the situation was. "Oh my god, you don't have to answer that. I'm so sorry, I'm totally invading your privacy. I mean, you can date whoever you want to date…or whoever you don't want to date, for that matter. I'm sure that whatever I saw--"

"Mitchie," I interrupted her, grabbing her arm to stop her from making the ridiculous hand movements she had been making previously. "Why don't you leave us alone for a little bit?"

As she walked away, Nate sighed and sat down, head in his hands, and I took a seat next to him.

"That was…" I trailed off, unsure of how exactly to describe what had just had happened.

"Yeah. I know," Nate agreed, wordlessly assuring me that he felt the same way I had.

"Well, at least she won't tell anyone," I assured.

"How do you know?" Nate asked. "All people want to know is what--or who--celebrities do. We didn't exactly look squeaky clean."

"Because I know her. She'd be too scared to let anyone know," I rebuked, unsure why I was even defending Mitchie.

"We better hope so," he semi agreed, and we started walking towards his limo.

* * *

Later that day, I ran into Mitchie during one of the classes. "Hey," I ran up to meet her.

"Hey," she smiled back tentatively.

"I'm sorry for being a little rude this morning," I apologized. "I was just…taken off guard. But Nate and I definetly aren't dating."

"Bet you wish you were, though," I heard her reply under her breath.

"What?" I asked in disbelief. Mitchie Torres going outside the box? Who would have thought.

"It's just that…from what I've seen, it looks like you like him. But I don't know, it's just an outsiders point of view," she answered, horrified that I had heard her.

I wondered whether I should be nice, or be a jerk. "Yeah, well…you've got one thing right," I sighed, choosing the first option.

"Well, at least it seemed he felt the same way, too," she offered.

"Yeah, sure," I replied, skeptical.

"Well, I've got to go. But don't worry," she added quickly. "Your secret's safe with me. Both of them."

* * *

The rest of the day flew by uneventfully. I waited impatiently for classes to be over so that I could finally call Nate. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I just wanted to hear his voice.

As soon as classes ended, I got out to my phone to call him. "Hey," I said once he picked up.

"Hey," he replied. "This morning was…interesting."

"Yeah," I agreed. "But Mitchie assured me she won't say anything, and I believe her."

"Good," he sighed in relief. "The last thing we need right now is more press."

"Yeah, totally…" I replied. I guess the old saying about all press was good press wasn't so true after all.

"Anyways," he sighed. "I started looking into the investigation. I actually managed to get the police report from the night."

"Wow," I interjected, amazed at how quickly he worked. "What does it say?"

"Well, it just has the interviews from witnesses, pictures from the scene, and the autopsy reports. Apparently the guy who hit your mom ran a red light and hit your mom as she was crossing the street in her car. They both died on impact," he told me reluctantly.

"Is their anything about the other guy?" I asked.

"Just his name…I'll do a background check on him then call you later."

* * *

For the rest of the day, I couldn't stop checking my phone. Had he found out anything? Who was the driver? Was there any lead? It was consuming all of my thoughts. _Stop, _I had to tell myself repeatedly. _You're at a music camp, not some detective academy._

So when I saw Shane lounging around the dining hall, I decided to go talk to him about my idea of producing a song for them. I hoped it would get my mind off of the case.

"Hey," I said, plopping down next to him.

"Hey," he sighed back. "What's up?"

"Well," I started off, but then didn't know how to proceed. How do you tell the biggest pop star in the world that you want to produce for them? "I was talking to Nate about your music."

"Yeah," he sighed. "It's just stupid, record label crap."

"Sounds familiar," I agreed, gaining confidence. "Anyway, I told him that I thought you guys should write a new song, produce it here at camp."

"Let me guess, you want to help," he smirked as I turned red. As I started to argue, he added, "It's ok, we don't know anything about that stuff. And I do know that you're only doing it for Nate."

"Oh," I said, still flaming red with embarrassment.

"Well, I've got to go, but I've been working on a couple of songs. When I finish one, I'll send you the lyrics," he said, standing up from the table and walking off. "And tell Nate that the next time he comes to visit, he should at least say hi to me."


End file.
